Alpha and Omega
by Notemaker
Summary: Juliet and Harry.


**Ok dont own them, never have and sadly never will!**

**A new one ...basically filth...enjoy! x**

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His hands seem to cover me; his lips feel like they're burning my skin as they skim over my naked body. He finds his way around me he knows where this will end and we want it. We know the destination but the route is the exciting part.

His lips leave mine and pick their way down my chin and off to the side. He sucks on that spot just behind my ear. The spot that no ne else can find. It's like a secret I didn't share until he found it out. The moan gives it away every time as if my deepest and darkest are spilling out. He has kissed every part of my body at some point I'm sure of it. Some times it's as if he's conducting an operation and each time we fuck he finds a new angle from which to attack.

We've been doing this for an age. I don't really know when it started but I know its going to end soon. Berlin was the first time we went to bed together I know that but an affair can be about so much more than sex. Talking is as much cheating as sex is. You share something no one else can give you. The escape.

His hands are on my shoulders now pushing me back onto the bed. As I fall I catch his eyes. I know there's passion in mine, the same passion that's filling his. The only sure thing I know right now is that I want him. The worry about whether the bomb went off is somewhere in the back of my mind. We both know the devastation this could cause but when his body leans over mine I don't care about my husband, his wife, the world or how we're manipulating it.

I can feel him pressing into me through the thin silk and cotton but his hands are distracting me, skimming, pinching, pressing and his hot breath, warming my skin.

I can never remember how we get back to the hotel. It's a blur through the fumbles of kisses around streets we don't know or care for. No one knows who we are and that's our job. To them we're just another couple too wrapped up in them elves to notice the world crumbling around them.

Sometimes I wonder if it's the guilt that drove us together.

I moan and arch my back as he tweaks and nips at my left breast, I don't understand how just his touch can bring me so close, but I can, e knows it and regularly does. He seems to find it a huge ego boost, not that I mind that. He loves that I find him sexy, it's like no ones ever wanted him before. Maybe they haven't

He's kissing my stomach and his hands are pushing my thighs apart. I tense all my muscles knowing I'm going to need all my strength to resist letting my self go. Sometimes I do, I know he's good at this and I'm ready to let go but if I wait I know he'll make it worth while.

I tingle as his tongue slides into my wetness. He flicks me over, teasing me, sucking lightly then hard. His hands never come close to helping out, they don't need to. They have their own job. One lightly tickles the skin on the inside of my thighs and he other slips behind my back, pushing me further into him. I breathe his name because he likes to hear it. He doesn't like a quiet woman.

We don't know why we're here. We've been trained not to ask. We do our job exactly as we're asked to. We are invisible. We follow orders. We create mayhem. We use the chaos. We don't know what for. We will find out eventually but for now our country needs us. And we need us.

He kisses me and I taste myself. I find that oddly sexy. The taste of me on him is erotic. He has a wicked smile because he knows. He can read me but this is the only time. He doesn't know who I am until I'm naked.

I snake my hands around him, holding his hips with a force I know he can easily parallel but doesn't, and I turn him over pining him to the bed. I sit up so I can take in his whole body. He's beautiful. If he wasn't so good looking I probably wouldn't do this. But he is so I do.

His chest is perfectly chiselled, he works out I know, we all do. We have to. But he has a definition that men dream about. His stomach however is rounded, he's not fat by any means but he's not skinny. I like to know I'm smaller than my partner an ego boost to me this time. I couldn't stand it if the man beneath me was also smaller than me. I suppose there's a small part of me that likes to play the helpless woman, but it's a very small part. I feel the muscles as I run my hands up over his pecks to his shoulders and up his arms, pushing them above his head so I'm leaning down my face just inches from his.

I move off him and off the bed. I stand to the side for a moment and then walk slowly, silently to the end. His legs are toned and golden, we've been in a few sunny places and it suits him. I run my hands up his thighs and he tenses, growing in anticipation. A few languid movements of my hand and he's pulsating between my fingers. His breathing is ragged and a cold gust of wind dimples his skin. I circle the head of his penis with my tongue and it's not long before he's moaning and I stop, selfishly not wanting him to expend himself just yet.

So I straddle him, slowly lowering myself on to his engorged form. He's large, larger than I've had before and it took me a while to get used to how filling he is. I was amazed at how much better it is, I thought it was myth but size does matter.

I rock back and forth leaning down on my hands, he steady's me with his hands on my hips, holding me in place as I quicken the pace. He moves with me his grip tightening as the rhythm sets.

Another gust of cold wind that causes me to moan, the cool air against my sweaty skin makes my nerves tingle as it runs down my body. As if sensing it's becoming too much for me he flips me over with a precision that I can only presume comes from practice. I presume because we don't talk about that.

He slams into me hard and deep, he knows this is the way to send me over then edge and its working. A slight dizziness is taking me over. He knows this will let me come first and with a few hurried moans and a cry I do. His name spills from my lips and that's all he need. Its carnal he likes to feel me contract around him and to hear his name. He keeps thrusting with the waves that flow through me. Just a few seconds means he's spent and the warmth spreads through me.

We do this every time, set the explosives, start the ball rolling, end up in bed together, lye in each others arms and wait for the rumble, we feel it and that's our cue to move. We untangle, dress, pack and leave to do the same again at the next stop on the route to anarchy.


End file.
